


a better hiding place

by Cards_Slash



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Exhibitionism, M/M, Slight Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-10 14:16:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cards_Slash/pseuds/Cards_Slash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>anon asked for: So Malik and Altair are in a relationship but no one knows. One day, Altair comes to visit Malik after finishing an assassination (or something else that part doesn't matter). Its been awhile since they last saw each other, and what better way to reunite than to have sex in the bureau? But while their enjoying smexy times, some novices show up and are unable to leave so they stay and watch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a better hiding place

**Author's Note:**

> original prompt: [Here](http://asscreedkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/2158.html?thread=11460206#cmt11460206)

The novice had just wanted to report what he'd found. He'd only expected to a new mission in return (perhaps a bit of advice about how to avoid attracting the attention of the guards that seemed to dog his every step). He had not been expecting (could not have imagined in even the wildest of his most deviant fantasies) to find Altair completely naked, bent over the counter with both of his hands bound behind his back and his face pressed against the not-entirely dry ink of a new map. 

And his mouth, and the sounds he made with both of his eyes squeezed shut as his body trembled helplessly.

The novice stopped short, mouth agape and breath lost.

The Dai--Malik, vaguely grumpy, always dutiful, not-at-all deviant seeming Malik (still fully dressed) was three fingers deep in Altair, thrusting his hand with only just contained violence, leaning in against Altair's long-naked back to bite dirty-low words into his skin. 

Promising him how much he'd missed him and how he intended to fuck him until they were both spent and Altair was aching-and-sore and would not soon forget him. 

If some reasonable part of the novices brain had still be functioning he may have realized the danger he was in--not from the guards that were curiously searching the streets for him but from Altair who was facing him, who's own eyelids were the only thing keeping him from being discovered.

"Malik," Altair moaned. The sound of his voice was unreal, the high-strung and restless quality of it, the way his tongue licked at his sweaty lips. Malik's hand was in his hair, moving his head away from the ruined map and pushing him face down into the rough wood of the counter-looking away from the novice. 

"Be still," Malik said. He was talking to Altair but he was looking at the novice. His intent was confusing but he looked right at the novice and then half-smiled as he ran his hand down Altair's back and then to his own body to uncover his dick. 

(The guards, beyond the safety of these walls were mumbling about the pointlessness of their search, never once guessing that if they had only followed him a bit faster they would be standing here watching this very same unbelievable scene.)

Malik was grinding against Altair, rubbing his hard dick against his skin and pressing it down. His smile twisted higher with every eager twitch of Altair's body and every bitten-off moan the man made. "Perhaps I will make you wait. There is business I should attend to."

"Malik," Altair said, like it was the only thing he could think to say. His body twisted, his bound hands tightening into fists as he turned his head to look at Malik. Whatever the expression on his face, it made Malik's smirk turn sweet. They kissed like lovers (a great deal more friendly than what the novice thought he walked in on). 

Malik pulled back only to line himself up and push insistently into Altair who's body tightened all at once, his hips lifting higher and his head rolling back. His mouth was wide open and the novice felt all light in the head as he ducked back around the corner, just out of obvious sight but still able to watch. 

Anyone who had ever been to visit the Dai of Jerusalem knew of his dedication and efficiency but they were qualities that the novice had never once thought to attribute to such carnal things. 

Altair was writhing and sweating, desperate as he moaned and cried out and pushed back with his whole body. But Malik was relentless as he fucked into him in a steady pace, his one hand pressed against Altair's back and his own face gone red from he heat of the day and the effort of holding himself in check. He started talking, mouthing filthy-sweet-nothings about how tight Altair was around him and how hot, about how he loved the sound of his voice even as it grew hoarse. He talked of the many other times they had done this and how they would do it again.

"I will not assist you if you mean to come you must do it yourself," Malik said.

Altair twisted around at those words--futilely, perhaps just for show, perhaps to test the fastness of his bound hands. He knocked his head against the counter and groaned out a curse that was unfit to be spoken. He spread his legs wider and tilted his hips and started chanting Malik's name in a breathy undertone. 

(Surely being found and murdered by the guards would be painless in comparison to what Altair would do once he became aware he was being watched.) 

Altair, apparently not to be outdone, started answering Malik's stream of filth with his own. He exalted in the glorious thickness and length of Malik's dick, at his speed and his depth and his precise skill for fucking him. He praised the strength of his body and babbled on about how he often thought of these moments they shared when they were apart.

"I will not break," Malik said.

But that was before Altair started trembling all over and his voice lost all arrogance and certainty. He was all but begging for relief when he started telling about how lonely he was when he was away, about how empty he felt and how when he was sure that nobody was looking he would--

Malik's groan cut him off before Altair could finish his thought, his whole body fold forward when he wrapped his arm around Altair's waist and his hips fucked in short rabid-thrusts as he dug his teeth into Altair's back. They were wordless then, but still competing with the shamelessness of their begging moans. 

Altair groaned a curse when Malik fucked into him one more time and went still--body tight and still under the cover of his robes. "Malik," Altair whined, "Malik." His body was moving still, rocking back against Malik's with a needy shift and grind. He pulled his hands out from behind his back and reached one under his body and the other behind him to fist Malik's hair. "Fuck me," he said.

Malik groaned but did as he was told, starting slowly with an easy rock of his hips before picking up the pace so that the obscene wet slaps of their bodies coming together was echoing so loudly surely someone must have heard it beyond the safety of these walls.

Altair came with Malik's name like a prayer on his lips. And Malik sucked at the mark he'd left on Altair's back as he fucked him through the full of his orgasm. They collapsed to the ground as men too exhausted to stand.

"Novice," Malik said from somewhere behind the counter. "Perhaps Altair could offer you some advice on how best to remain hidden when you cannot immediately escape."

"I didn't know you thought so highly of me," Altair mumbled. He sounded sleepy-and-sated and not at all bent on murder for having been found in such a compromising position.

"If you endear yourself to the boy, perhaps he will not be so afraid of your retribution and perhaps he will keep your secret."

"Our secret," Altair corrected. He pulled himself up to standing--still completely naked--and looked down at the map he'd ruined with his face. "Looks as if you'll have to start all over, Malik." He rubbed his fingers against his cheek and frowned at the ink that came off. "You could have told me it was still wet."

Malik's response was dismissive.

Altair came from behind the counter and strode past the novice to where the fountain trickled water out. He was filthy with sweat and come and ink, his skin marred with red pressure marks and bite marks and sucked-in bruises from where he'd been handled roughly. But he crouched by the water and washed as if nothing at all of note had happened, stopping only to look at him with some disdain and concern. 

"I assume your business here was of some importance?"

But for the life of him, the novice could not even remember why he'd come.


End file.
